When it came to creating fireworks on the Fourth of July, Fireball Roberts was second to none.

"The Fourth of July is my day," Roberts said in 1963. "That's all there is to it."

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The Fourth of July is my day. That's all there is to it.

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-- FIREBALL ROBERTS (1963)

Roberts won five Cup races on July 4, a record he shares with David Pearson. But while Pearson did it in five trips to Daytona International Speedway, Roberts started his own personal holiday celebration back when the series used to make a stop at the one-mile paved oval in Raleigh, N.C.

He dominated the 250-lapper there in 1956, leading all but 49 laps in his '56 Ford and chasing down Carl Kiekhaefer's factory Dodge duo of Speedy Thompson and Frank Mundy. Two years later, Roberts made it a case of deja vu when he caught and passed Buck Baker in a battle of Chevrolets, eventually lapping the field in what was the last NASCAR race held at the track described as a high-banked, bigger version of Martinsville.

When Bill France's new track was completed in early 1959, the July 4 date was moved to Daytona and run as a 250-mile race. Not surprisingly, Roberts -- a Florida native and Daytona Beach resident -- was a heavy favorite. He won both the pole and the race, leading 84 of 100 laps.

Roberts started from the front row in 1960 and led eight laps before engine problems put an early end to his day 40 laps into the race, leaving him 31st. He led a majority of the 1961 race but faded to fourth behind eventual winner Pearson, who set a race record with an average speed of 154.294 mph, mainly because the race was run without a caution.

But 1962 was all Fireball at Daytona. He won his February qualifying race, finally broke his Daytona 500 jinx, and was in the right place at the right time when the transmission on Bobby Johns' Pontiac let go late in the race.

So even though the race was extended from 250 to 400 miles for 1963 -- and he had switched back to Fords -- Roberts was still a force with which to be reckoned. The Chevrolets of Junior Johnson and Jim Paschal took the front row, with Roberts and teammate Fred Lorenzen right behind. And from the drop of the green flag, it was evident that those four, along with the Wood Brothers' Marvin Panch, were the class of the field.

For the first 50 laps, the lead changed hands seemingly every lap or two, as the cars were evenly matched. But the Chevrolets began to have problems. Paschal retired shortly thereafter with a burned piston, and Johnson -- who led 66 laps -- went out with the same issue on Lap 111.

"It was the hardest race I've ever been in, from the standpoint of speed," Roberts said. "There were precious few laps I didn't have my foot flat on the floorboard. If Junior Johnson had stayed in, he undoubtedly would have been up with Lorenzen, Marvin Panch and myself in the end and Lord knows what would have happened."

At that point, Roberts had close to a 45-second lead on Lorenzen in second -- almost the entire distance around the 2.5-mile superspeedway. But late caution flags allowed Lorenezen and Panch to close the gap.

Unlike now, when the field is bunched up under yellow, NASCAR rules at the time had drivers hold their positions on the track under caution. However, that didn't deter Roberts' competition from taking advantage of the opportunity to make up some ground, especially as attrition had winnowed the field down to just a dozen cars.

"Truthfully, I never figured Panch or Lorenzen would catch up to me when I had my big lead there before those final caution flags," Roberts said. "I was thinking there were more cars on the track than there were. I thought it would be too crowded for anybody to challenge me."

So the crowd of 26,640 stood stunned, disbelieving as Lorenzen passed Roberts with four laps to go. Roberts went back in front on Lap 157, only to have Fearless Freddy roar right back past. That's the way they took the white flag, with Panch shadowing those two in third.

But Roberts was a master at the slingshot pass, and he felt like he had Lorenzen right where he wanted him.

"Never go into the third corner leading in a situation like today," Roberts said. "If you do, then you hold back the wind for the second car and likely he'll come scooting past you like he was pulled by a chain.

"But if Freddy and I did it again, did it 15 times again, I wouldn't bet that he wouldn't win half of them."

Lorenzen stayed high, Roberts went low -- and with Panch providing a tow -- swept underneath to edge Lorenzen by three-quarters of a car length at the line.

"That kind of windup is like Russian roulette," Roberts said. "This time I won, next time maybe I won't. When you get a couple of cars of equal speed racing together at the last lap, it's luck as much as anything that wins for you.

"The only time, however, I believed I actually had the race won was coming out of the final turn on the final lap, when I knew -- or hoped -- I had a little too much speed for Lorenzen to catch me."

Daytona Beach Morning Journal sportswriter Tom Tiede -- who would go on to become a war correspondent in Vietnam, winning the Ernie Pyle Award -- led his story with these thoughts: "If Glenn Roberts quit racing today, he still could get rich by signing autographs for a nickel apiece, charging little old ladies to feel his biceps and setting up a ticket booth in his trophy room. He's a born hero. If he were a cowboy, he'd ride the white horse. If he were an astronaut, he'd be on Mars by now and if he were a movie star, he'd be the chap what gets the gal in the end."

Sadly, Roberts would not have the opportunity to become the first driver to win three consecutive Firecrackers. He died July 2, two days before the 1964 race, succumbing to pneumonia resulting from the severe burns he suffered at Charlotte in May. He was buried within sight of Daytona's high-banked turns.

The opinions expressed are solely those of the writer.